.ೃ࿔ SECRET SURPRISE ☾

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

over again

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names

a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.

word count: 1.6k words

14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.

Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.

Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.

You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.

It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.

But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.

“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.

“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.

“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.

“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”

He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.

“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.

“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”

A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.

You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.

“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.

“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.

“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”

His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.

“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.

Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.

Night sketch.

It’s ironic that one of the best way to rest from drawing too much, is drawing something just for pleasure, without thinking.

#PRAISE !

;feat. gepard, jingyuan, blade, welt, dan heng, + luocha/afab!reader

;cw. praise kink, sexual content, no gendered prns used

a/n. i didn’t get the welt fic done but i hope that this will make up for it <3

contents on individual characters parts!

all characters presumed to be 18+. minors do not interact.

cw: pussywhipped!gepard, wet&messy, squirting

! GEPARD — heady, slurred praises babbled out in the heat of pleasure.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your wet little pussy was intoxicating. Every time he sunk balls deep, you would gush messily around his cock. Just the sight of that creamy ring around the base of him had his head spinning, making him feel like he was drunk.

All the exhaustion that he had come in with from a hard few days of work completely evaporated the second he walked through the door and had you pawing eagerly at him. You whimpered and whined so sweetly, telling him all about how you had been wet all day, making a mess in your little panties and that you needed him to finally satiate you. 

He knew you had been playing with yourself long before he had come home. Your pretty pussy was so sensitive and messy, swollen and open from your own fingers working you open in hopes of achieving an orgasm even close to the kinds your precious boyfriend could give you. 

He was all too eager to pin you down to the bed, a firm hand around your throat to keep you still as he bullied his fat cock into your needy little cunt.

Keep reading

I'm a little shy hence the anon but I need to see you do a virgin sanemi fic or just hear your thoughts on it (but like, he actually loves the person, too, like he wants to marry them and shit) and its his first time.

I'm a sucker for desperate sanemi.

My idea of virgin sanemi having his first time with someone he truly loves is so SOFT.

For starters, He’s the type to talk you through it. Even if it’s his first time, he still has a pretty good idea of what needs to be done. He appreciates it if you talk him through it as well, regardless if it’s your first time or not.

He’ll ask you things like “does this feel right? How about this? Why don’t you show me how you want it, etc etc”

He takes his time, listening attentively to what you want him to do and will try his damn hardest to hold himself back until he knows you’re ready for him

He was initially a bit scared of his first time, he couldn’t wrap his head around how it would go down. He always envisioned it to be very awkward and silent

So when the time actually comes, it’s like a weight lifted off his shoulders. It feels natural, it’s not awkward, it’s exciting even. Even if he makes a mistake he’s not worried about it because it’s you, you know him so well.

When Sanemi actually enters his partner for the first time, he comes very quickly. He’s never experienced something so warm, so soft and inviting. That’s probably the only time you’ll see him get embarrassed.

You assure him it’s fine, you don’t mind one bit. It’s no shock that he’s hard again within minutes of kissing and touching. His first time takes a while, because he’s so enthralled with getting to know your body, you getting to know his, all that fun stuff.

He’ll whisper soft praises, tell you he loves you and adores you and he could never picture his life with anyone else.

He’s always thought of sex as stress relief, lust fueled fun. He didn’t expect it to be so tender and warm, full of love and care. He’s quickly becoming addicted, he never wants it to end. He loves the way you say his name, look at him so needy and dazed.

He builds his stamina pretty quick, moves his hips in a way that feels right and gauges your reaction every thrust. He learns fast what feels good for you and what doesn’t, he listens to your instructions and lets you guide him.

“L-like this?” He chokes out, your body is wrapped around him so tightly it’s nearly dizzying. “Yeah… yeah like—oh fuck— like that… just like that…” you moan softly, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he slowly drags himself in and out of you.

Hehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheheheh

kakashi hands.

Next door neighbor Satoru x reader. Creepy surveillance behaviors from both sides 😈

Next door neighbor!Satoru who finds any excuse to knock on your door. He prays you don’t shut your blinds so he can sneakily peek through them and watch you go about your life innocently. He fantasizes about helping you while you’re cooking in the kitchen or cuddling with you on the couch while you watch a scary movie. When he sees you in your pajama shorts he imagines what your pussy looks like under the fabric, and when he catches a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your silk shirt he nearly faints. When he goes home he fucks his hand repeatedly to the thought of your life together. He doesn’t just get off on imagining how your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock; it makes him cum just imagining domestic life with you.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who offers to mow your lawn so he has an excuse to take off his shirt and work up a sweat in the sun. He offers to wash your car for the same opportunity to go shirtless and get his pants wet enough for your lingering eyes to see the firm outline of his cock. He offers to carry in your heavy groceries or fix things up around your house, and you admit sometimes you’ll make up excuses for him to come over and fix a nonexistent issue.

Next door neighbor!Satoru whose mind goes blank when you ask if he can house sit for you while you’re out of town. You offer to pay him but he won’t have it, he’s says he’d be happy to watch your place because he knows you’d do the same for him. It’s funny when he says that because he watches your place every day, but only from the outside.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who takes house sitting for you very seriously. So seriously that he neglects his own home to sleep in yours, just to make sure everything is in order when you come back. Or so he tells himself. It’s certainly not because he wants an excuse to sleep in your bed, rifle through your closet, peek into the cabinets and drawers that hold your…personal items. It’s like he’s able to preview what his life would be like if he was your boyfriend, and he loved every minute of it. For the entire week you were gone, he made your house his home, and he truly behaved like he was the boyfriend you’d left at home while you went on your business trip.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who experienced the most intense orgasms of his life while he laid in your bed. Just knowing that this is where you slept, and where you fucked yourself, fueled his imagination enough to believe you were the one making him cum. He’d spend hours locked in your room, jerking himself off with your panties and fucking his hand to the innocent pictures of your with your friends pinned to the wall. He’d bury his face into your pillowcase and inhale the lingering sent of your hair while he bucked his hips and fucked his hand like he was fucking you. When he came into your panties, he’d toss them in the pile of all the other pairs he’d used to clean up the messes caused by his filthy thoughts about you. He figured that as long as he did your laundry before you got home, you’d be none the wiser.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who had no way of knowing that the front door Ring camera was not the only camera in your home. Maybe you’d intentionally withheld that fact for reasons more nefarious than either of you would assume. You knew that all of his little tricks were attempts to impress you, but you wanted to see if there was something more impressive that would make him worthy of your time.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who might die of embarrassment if he knew while you were on your trip you would pull up the video feed for your home cameras and watch what he was doing in your house. You watched him invade your privacy and got off on seeing the creative ways he fucked himself to feel some semblance of closeness to you. You’d sit and watch the desperate man cum on your clothes and fuck himself as your name escaped his lips in the form of a yearning wail.

Next door neighbor!Satoru who will get the scare of his life when you mention you forgot to turn off your home’s internal cameras. You see the panic take over his face and relish it for a minute, until you tell him that you enjoyed the little show he put on for you.

this duck LOVES pink drink

Trophy Father's Trophy Son

Summary: Six years after Leon left you for Raccoon City, he shows up on your doorstep. In his sudden appearance, he learns of yet another reason why he never should’ve left that day. 

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K Words

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death, mentions of depression/burnout, swearing, mentions of trauma

Tags: RE4/DI Leon, Dad!Leon, happy-ending, Leon breaks down, but he also gets his happy-ending, not proofread!

A/N: I am finally back! I never want to experience another hurricane again :) anyways, this was another request. I put a bit of a spin on it, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all for supporting my work once again! <3<3<3! Song title from "Trophy Father's Trophy Son" by Sleeping With Sirens.

Six years. Six long, miserable years that seemed never-ending. Caught in a loop of trauma and loss, never once finding an ounce of peace, Leon wondered if he’d ever found a way to cope with what happened on September 28, 1998. He lived his life like a machine, oiling just enough to wake up in the morning before he’d eventually crash and break down at night. 

Six fucking years of living a life not for himself, keeping himself alive just to play the good agent. The best agent, willingly seated at the President’s beck and call, constantly wondering what would happen if he decided to swap out his usual, “Yes, sir” for one giant, “Fuck you.” Would they reprimand him, consider his work too valuable to do anything less than a mark on his record? Or would they bite the bullet and put on right through his skull, like he’d done to the countless innocents infected by corporations that lined the thick pockets of government officials and campaigners? 

Leon didn’t know anymore. Hell, did he ever really know anything in the first place, considering his memory always loved to backtrack just 24-hours before he would no longer consider himself a man. 

September 27, 1998. 

The day he walked away from you, watching you cling to the post of your family’s front porch, wailing in the rain as you begged him not to go. He could still remember the gut-wrenching feeling of getting in his car, sitting stiff in the driver’s seat as he tried to make up his mind on whether or not to leave you behind for Raccoon City. He’d been so excited to get the assignment, raving on for weeks about how he wanted to get the chance to investigate the Arklay Mountain murders. 

He’d barely graduated from the Police Academy back then, coming home to you with a much more muscular physique and a ‘good boy’ attitude. He’d matured more than you could’ve imagined in just a few months, and that included his view on your relationship. Leon would’ve dropped to one knee back then in an instant, if he thought you’d say yes. Which is what he thought you were going to say when he asked you if you were going to move with him. 

The breakup was inevitably coming, that much he knew by the way you faltered over your words and looked away from him. You were in your last year of college, and the university nearby didn’t offer a program for your major.

The guilt on your face when you’d declined still hurt him to this day, six years later as he sat beside Ashley Graham on the plane back home to the U.S. This last mission in Spain stirred up more emotions from the past than he was comfortable with. Seeing Ada again, the woman he’d tried to let distract him from his heartbreak only to end up hurt again when he thought she’d fallen to her death, brought him right back to that unlucky night. Learning Krauser, the man whose rigorous training had nearly killed Leon and given him a sense of purpose, had abandoned his morals and joined the enemy made him seriously wonder if the life he led would ever have its upturn. 

Watching Luis die, a man whose last minute efforts to be the good guy ended with a knife to his back, was what Leon considered to be the last straw. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. His life would not be reduced to following a “democracy” truly fueled by those who held the most cash in their pockets, not the people that resided within its borders. 

And for the first time in six years, the second he stepped off the plane and dealt with the hours-long debriefings and mandatory quarantine, he allowed himself to revisit the past. He hadn’t even gotten a full night’s rest before he sat at his kitchen table, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wondered if this truly was the best idea. 

He wasn’t the same man that you remembered, the bright-eyed rookie long gone and leaving behind an emotionless husk held together by more glasses of whiskey than truly necessary. A workaholic, bordering on alcoholic, that refused to admit to himself or those around him that he was not okay. 

“Here goes nothing,” Leon huffed beneath his breath, brushing the blonde fringe from his eyes with a shaky hand. He opened up the civilian record system he wasn’t necessarily granted access to, having called in a personal favor with Hunnigan. Slowly typing in your first and last name, he scrolled through countless hits before he found you. 

You’d never left Boston judging by your driver’s license and voting records. You’d switched addresses a few times, having recently just moved to a better part of town within the last six months. He felt a twinge in his chest, the feeling unfamiliar to him, as he searched for anything that would cause his search to halt. Marriage licenses or divorce decrees were absent from your record, bringing a sigh of relief from his lips. 

Leon only let himself briefly glance at your tax returns to gauge your occupation before the guilt of diving too deep into his ex-girlfriend’s sensitive information began to make him feel nauseous. He clicked out of the program, shutting his laptop before he eventually decided to finally get some sleep. USSTRATCOM had so generously granted him a few days off after too many near-death experiences for one mission. 

He spent the first thirteen hours of his time off dead asleep, sleeping so deeply he didn’t even dream. And when he woke up, he booked the first flight to Boston. With only an overnight bag and your address scribbled on a sticky note, he made his way “home” for the first time since he’d left. 

And now, Leon sat in a rental car parked in front of the brownstone townhome, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the minutes dragged on. He’d been sitting here for an hour, glancing back and forth from the bustling road to your front doorstep. What would I even say to her, he thought to himself as he leaned back in the driver’s seat, frown forming on his face. 

It wasn’t like he could exactly waltz up to the door, knock and say, “Hey, sorry I’ve been AWOL for six years. The government enslaved me, but I miss you and I want you back.” 

No, that wouldn’t blow over well. 

So now, he was left empty-minded and utterly petrified of your reaction. He wondered if maybe there was another man in your life, now. Or, if you had long closed the chapter of your life that included him and left the book on an old, dusty shelf in your mind never to be read again. Leon prayed, something he never did, that you’d find it in your heart to reread the story you used to love just one more time as he got out of the car. 

Slowly, he made his way up the concrete mat and onto the doorstep, taking in the painted door and double deadlocks. Smart girl, he mused internally before he took a shuddering breath. For a second, he thought about abandoning ship. You would never know if he just turned around right now and walked away, giving up all hope that he’d once again find happiness. It would be so easy. 

No, I need this. I need her. 

Leon knocked a few times before he took a step back, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his windbreaker. He didn’t trust himself to wear another leather jacket, considering the one he’d worn and lost in Spain cost more than he was comfortable spending again. 

“Coming!” Your voice rang out from just behind the door, making his stomach twist and turn into knots. You sounded the same as you had when he’d known you, and it only made the nerves twisting in his stomach all the worse. 

He briefly glanced at the potted plant beside the door, making a mental note of it in case he lost the minimal lunch he’d eaten thanks to his nerves. His blue eyes, a duller blue than past versions of himself, flitted right back to the door when he heard the locks click. All the air in his lungs swept away with the afternoon breeze when it swung open, and your head popped out. 

The smile on your face stayed for only a few seconds before it dropped, leaving behind an expression he could only describe as utterly shocked. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to believe your own eyes as you opened the door slowly to reveal your full figure. 

You were the same height you’d been at twenty, but your curves were more prominent. You looked soft around the edges, just like he’d come to like over the years. And if anything, you were just as beautiful, if not more, than you were the day he’d left you and what remained of himself behind. 

“Leon?”

 Asking hesitantly, your words sounded airless and no louder than a hushed whisper. You looked him over from head-to-toe, making the seasoned agent squirm just a bit under your gaze. He’d been through bootcamp and bio-terroristic attacks, for fuck’s sake, yet the way you looked at him like you’d just seen a ghost made him feel like breaking. 

Leon licked his lips, looking down at his boots against the pavement as he tried to think of the best greeting possible. Something to ease you into his presence and not get himself kicked off your front porch. He settled on a simple, “Uh, hi.” 

You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and in “lazy day” clothes as you looked up at him. You frowned, and he watched your eyes flit around his face. He could feel your gaze burn on the few beauty marks and moles he had, like you were checking their authenticity. 

“You’re.. God, I-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. Leon could see the reels turning in your mind as you took a step closer, holding your hands out in front of you. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before you touched his arm. “You’re.. Alive?” 

That threw him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down and felt your soft hands brush over the slick fabric of his windbreaker. He could feel your fingers, as warm as he remembered, press into him. “I, uh, yeah?” He let out an awkward chuckle, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction. 

Your frown deepened, causing him to mirror your expression as you tried to find your words. You stammered a bit, stringing words of surprise together before you could finally form a coherent sentence. “I saw the news,” you started, swallowing harshly. “That they’d bombed Raccoon City.. I thought.. I thought you were dead.” 

Oh. 

It made sense to him, now. The government had painted quite a perfect lie, sorrowfully reporting there were no survivors of the incident that flattened an entire US city in a matter of seconds. Of course, you would think he was dead. It was only natural. 

“That’s a difficult story to explain,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting inside his pockets before he pulled his hands out. He’d made it this far, so far, it was too early to throw in the towel. “I can try to explain, uh. Can I come in?” Leon gestured to the open door behind you. 

You winced a bit, face twisting into a look of discomfort as you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea-” 

“Mommy?” 

A soft voice sounding from behind you snapped both Leon’s attention and yours back to the open door. He couldn’t see its owner until you quickly turned around, and the sight before him caused his heart to fall flat right out of his chest and onto the floor. 

A little boy, probably elementary school aged, peered curiously up at you then around you. He looked at Leon, child-like bewilderment evident as he rocked back and forth on the door ledge. He looked just like you, mixed with someone else also standing on this porch. 

“Scotty, baby,” you started, your back to Leon but unease clearly evident in your voice as you bent down to eye-level with the little baby. “I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?” 

“You left the door open,” Scotty giggled, like he found the situation to be funny as he looked around you again. “Who is that?” 

Leon swallowed as a small finger pointed right at him, shock and other emotions tormenting deep inside his chest. Of course, she has a kid, he internally cringed. If only he’d scrolled through your tax return just a bit more, he would’ve seen that you claimed a dependent and not found himself in this situation. He didn’t speak, only looking away from the boy and back to you. 

“This is one of mommy’s friends from work,” you lied perfectly through your teeth, ushering the boy back inside. “Now, go on. I’ll be back inside in a minute.” You shut the door behind your son once he reluctantly disappeared inside, your shoulders slumped. Turning back towards Leon, it was clear that you were bracing for the incoming questions. 

If the fact that the little boy had a few traits just like Leon didn’t tip him off, the name definitely would click something in the depths of his mind. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked back at you, and he could only ask one thing: “How old is he?” 

You sighed through your nose, wrapping your arms around your midsection as you stared at the ground. “He turned six in June.” 

June, Leon thought. He counted back on his fingers, mumbling out the months until he got to the ninth one. September. His trip down memory lane had turned into yet another day he could put on the calendar as “life-changing”. 

I have a son. 

The thought was fleeting, but it shook every inch of Leon’s core as he stood before you, frozen in time. Sure, at twenty-one he really hadn’t been the most responsible about “family planning” or even bothering to reach for a condom when the box was right on his nightstand, but he never would’ve thought that this would happen. 

And then the soul-crushing guilt came crumbling down on him. He’d left you for Raccoon City. When you were pregnant. With his child. 

“When did you find out?” His voice cracked when he asked the question, blue eyes stinging with the threat of a substance that hadn’t rolled down his face in what felt like years: tears. 

You bit your lip, looking back up from the ground and into his eyes. The apologetic look on your face only made him sniffle, confirming that Scotty was indeed his. “Two days after you left,” you whispered. 

“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Leon’s voice now sounded hurt. If only he’d known just two days earlier, he never would’ve left. Hell, his life may have turned out somewhat decent instead of the clusterfuck it currently was. Maybe, he’d still be a cop. “File for child support, something?” 

“Leon,” you let out exasperatedly. “I thought you were dead. I spent the entire nine months mourning you and trying to figure out what to tell him when he grew up and asked where his father was.” 

Leon ran a hand over his face, looking up at the sky as he tried to will the tears not to fall past his lashes. He couldn’t cry now, because if he did, he’d never stop. “I never should’ve left,” he whispered, taking a deep, controlled breath to try and get a grip on his emotions. “I should’ve just stayed there, with you.” 

You frowned and took a step towards him again, placing your hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “You can’t blame yourself,” you tried your best to give him some sort of ease. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. That isn’t your fault.” 

Leon swallowed hard, finally looking back down at you. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few hot tears roll down his face. “I can’t even tell you what I went through,” he choked out. “And all this time, all these years, I had a kid? I had a family that thought I was dead?” 

When he started to tremble, it felt like a thousand needles had driven through your heart. Clearly, in your time apart, something had broken Leon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as you rubbed his back. “Hey, hey,” you whispered against his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.” 

His grip around you could be considered crushing as his forearms dug into your ribs, pulling you into him with all of his strength. You could feel his tears staining your shirt as he buried his face in your neck, hiding himself as he displayed his emotions for the world to see. 

“I have a son,” Leon choked out through his shuddering but soft sobs, words muffled by your skin. The pain cut deep through him, torturing him as he realized he’d missed six years of his child’s life. For all he knew at this moment, Scotty had grown up believing that his father was dead. Whether or not you’d told him the “truth”, the damage had already been done. 

“We have a son,” you corrected him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as you held him in your arms. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. The man you loved had suddenly reappeared, cheating death in your mind and abruptly entering your life. And before you could carefully tell him, the truth had been revealed. 

“You can meet him,” you started, still speaking in a soft, soothing tone as your lips pressed against the shell of Leon’s ear. “You just can’t tell him who you are, right now. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?” 

He nodded against you, sniffling as he tried to reel himself back in. This was not how he’d expected this trip to go. But maybe, there was some light at the end of Leon’s tunnel, after all. 

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Leon grunted as he limped down the corridor of the airport, feeling every ounce of pain radiating all over his body. Not even seven hours after having gotten the tar beat out of him by Maria Gomez, and getting infected with the T-virus just to be vaccinated not long after, his body definitely wanted to give out on him right now. 

But, he didn’t have time to lay out on the floor and give his aching muscles a rest. He was already late, thanks to an unwanted delay in flight plans, and he had a forty-five minute drive to his destination. The event started in thirty minutes. 

The man didn’t bother to change out of his mission gear, instead abandoning his tactical vest and holsters in the backseat of his Jeep after he’d gotten his luggage. His beloved and dearly departed Ducati’s keys laid abandoned as well, a sore reminder of his short time in San Francisco. Leon sped out of the airport parking lot, taking off for the suburbs of D.C. with one thing on his mind. 

He didn’t even bother to tell you that he’d landed, instead doing as best as he could to get there on time. He owed it to you, and to Scotty, to at least show up for this. 

After getting caught in a roadblock, Leon did something he never thought he’d do. He’d flashed his DSO badge to the officer, mumbling something about “official business” that would definitely make his way back to his supervisor, considering he’d gotten out of a ticket for going 60 in a 45. But right now, he didn’t care. 

He finally pulled into the parking lot of the high school, circling around three times before he found a parking spot. He almost forgot to lock the Jeep as he rushed inside, making his way towards the gymnasium. They’d just cut off the lights, making it a lot harder to find you in the bleachers until he saw you waving your arms. 

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, just gonna scooch past you real quick,” he spouted off to every person he cut in front of, inching his way down the row of plastic benches until he got next to you. Leon sat down with a huff once you’d moved your purse from the spot you’d saved him, resting his hands on his knees. “Did I miss anything?” 

“Nothing important,” your daughter, Bella, huffed as she scrolled through the phone she was always glued to. “Nothing but boring speeches so far.”

Leon reached out, yanking it from her hands and tucking it into his back pocket. He held a hand up when she tried to protest. “Ah,” he interrupted. “Pay attention. If I can make it, you can get off your phone for twenty minutes.” 

You laughed softly as she scowled and looked back towards the stage. Leaning against your husband, you interlaced your fingers with his. “How’d it go?” 

“Awful,” Leon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t be surprised if I’m purple under my clothes.” 

Before you could reply, the principal took her place on stage again and announced the start of the senior class. After reading off names, she finally got to the K’s. You and Leon both leaned forward in your seats, eyes glued to the caps and gowns until you saw the head of floppy blonde hair making his way towards the podium. 

“Scotty Kennedy,” the woman announced. You could feel Leon squirming beside you, trying to hold in any noise until your son had actually accepted his diploma. “Following in his father’s footsteps, he will be attending the DC Metropolitan Police Academy in the Fall.” 

As soon as the diploma touched Scotty’s fingers, Leon leapt up from his seat. Usually not one to draw much attention to himself, this was definitely one of those rare moments he expressed his excitement. Using two fingers to whistle loudly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out towards the stage. 

“That’s my boy!”